Deception
by Metaverse
Summary: How the Sith manipulate the galaxy


Deception  
  
By Metaverse  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters nor am I making  
  
any money from this. Please do not sue me.  
  
It was a large square room, devoid of any kind of furnishings. The walls floors and ceilings were jet black, and seemed to eat light, plunging the room into a perpetual gloom.  
  
He had a lot of names, so many that he often had trouble remembering the one he was given when born. There was one name though, that'd he'd never forget, it was the one he'd earned. Upon this he reflected as he stood at it's center. With his head was bowed and his arms were at his side. The only clothing he wore was a pair of shorts. His breathing was even but had the lighting been a bit better the sweat from his heavy exertion would easily have been visible.  
  
Throughout the gloom, small spherical shapes moved, darting through the air with a swishing sound. Their number was not easily determined, but it was obvious there were a lot of them. The man was unconcerned.  
  
For several long minutes, the man merely stood there as the remote droids, whizzed around him. Content to wait, patience was a skill important to people like him after all.  
  
The first bolt, came from high and behind. Before it could reach him, his body seemed to drift out of the way, before snapping back to it's original position. The droids circled again, and again another fired. This time from the front and right, and again the man drifted out of the way. This time by bending himself back at the waist, before snapping back to his former position.  
  
Two remotes fired as, as his body twisted to the side to avoid one blast, he right hand shot up to the snap-hiss of a light saber, the bolt bounced harmlessly of the blade, as it bathed this small portion of the room in red light.  
  
The remotes, almost as if they were angered by their inability to hit him, opened up in mass. The light saber in his left sprung to life as he, ducked, dodged and weaved throughout their fire, red blades spinning all the while, blocking, & deflecting the incoming bolts.  
  
No longer able to remain in place, the man began to move the fight all over the room. Soon he was using the wall to his advantage, using them as spring boards to flip off of. Getting a moments rest as the remotes attempted to re-acquire him.  
  
Thus the fight continued, the man evading and deflecting the bolts, as the remotes, danced around him blasting away.  
  
As he became lost in the fight, he began to shift tactics. No longer content to merely, block the bolts, he went on the attack. Using one saber as cover, he swept the other through a spinning pattern before twirling around and bringing it down in a hard strike, catching five of the remotes, in his blades sweep. Still others fired.  
  
He began to maneuver, faking fatigue, and like a pack of hungry wolves, they remotes closed in, surrounding him. When he was sure they were close enough he dropped low, and sprung high in a rising spinning motion, his twin blades bisecting the air and remotes, as he rose like a deadly spinning top. By the time he landed, the remotes were gone.  
  
He blinked coming back to himself. Seeing the remains of the droids he frowned. He hadn't intended to do that, of course they could be easily replaced, but if he lost himself like that on a mission he could do irreparable damage to the plan.  
  
He sighed, something else he'd have to work on.  
  
He switched off the sabers, and exited the room. After walking through a short hallway for a few steps, he turned to his right and entered the bathroom and soon found himself before a mirror.  
  
He stared at his face, handsome he supposed, maybe even a little exotic considering his gray eyes set in an other wise human face. A neatly trimmed ring of dark facial hair encircled his mouth, while his head was shaven at the sides, with what remained pulled into a ponytail that reached to his shoulder. Currently dressed only in shorts, he could see his frame which though a little on the short sized, displayed the musculature of an athlete. Considering his vocation, that was expected.  
  
Turning from the mirror, he activated the shower, shed the last of his clothes and stepped in. After enjoying the feel of hot water cascading over him he began to scrub. As suds began to envelope him and wash away the sweat and grim of his intense training, he began to review the message he'd received from his master.  
  
"I have a mission for you my apprentice." The blue hologram had begun, as he kneeled before it. The figure depicted, though shrunken from its normal height, lost none of its imposing qualities. Thick black robes, hid the face and gender of the speaker, but he knew them already, there was no need for him to see them now.  
  
"What is thy bidding, Master?" he spoke this while still bowed. Only lifting his head when the figure allowed it.  
  
"A warlord is causing problems along the periphery. She and her group are better armed than they should be, and their suppliers are my rivals in the business world."  
  
Knowing his master position as the head of a major corporation, the apprentice hazarded a guess. "You wish me to provide enough evidence to expose this link?"  
  
A trace of a smile, touched the others lips. "Yes, I want enough evidence to bury them in court. However, I also want you to increase this warlords effectiveness."  
  
"Master?"  
  
The robes moved, as his master made a motion. An image of a stern looking man began to float next to the Sith Lord. "This is Phelan Chell. A talented general in the security directorate. Once the problem on the periphery has gained enough notice, the republic will be forced to send an expeditionary force to solve, what you will make, a large problem. Once he is sent, you will arrange for his victory to be swift and finale. He will rise and will owe me for it."  
  
"I see Master." And he did. A popular general in debt could advance their plans greatly. Not to mention his master's company would likely provide help to those poor system conquered by the warlord once they were 'freed' by Chell, earning his master's public face more influence in the affairs of the republic.  
  
He bowed low. "By your command it shall be done."  
  
"Good, I look forward to your success, Lord Wraith."  
  
He deactivated the shower, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around himself. The question now was how to not only gain entrance into this warlords ranks, but to also be in a position to influence their actions.  
  
After changing into a simple black shirt and pants combo, Wraith sat at a terminal and began to find out more about this Warlord.  
  
------  
  
Days Later  
  
A beat up skipray gunship landed on Arcturus. The world was a planet colonized by humans millennia ago and had once been on the trade route to other system. Then it had been a teaming frontier town. Now it was barely a shell of it's former self. Building, lights and road ways suffered as now one cared enough to repair any of them. This was a dead world. One that'd only earned a little more time due to it being on the 'border' of the warlords influence.  
  
Into this world stepped Mouse.  
  
Mouse was dressed in a burgundy jacket, over a dark blue shirt, with a pair of black pants and boots. His face was covered in stubble and his chestnut colored hair was slightly wild but short. Descending from the ramp of his ship, Mouse's Grey eyes surveyed the bleak scene. The landing pad, if it could be called that, was set in an open air square building. A building that was in obvious need of repair, but should last the length of his stay, which would be hopefully short.  
  
As his feet touched the dirt, the ramp closed back into the ship. A quick check of the two blaster pistols strapped to his legs and Mouse set off.  
  
Internally Wraith reflected on this particular persona. Mouse was a Mercenary that dabbled a bit in bounty hunting. He went wherever the money was and lived a nomadic and solitary life. He tended to be headstrong but generally knew when to acquiesce to a superior force or person. After all a dead Merc didn't get paid. But his record in any number of border worlds would show a talented commander and unparalleled marksman. All the skills necessary to get him into the Warlords forces.  
  
Now he just had to find a place to get noticed.  
  
----  
  
Mouse entered the bar, pausing a moment to give his eyes enough time to adjust to the light. The place was run down, like the rest of the planet. Sad old tables were arrayed around the bar, which was located centrally and had one old fat human tending. Stairs on either side led up and back to more private areas but he doubted what he wanted could be found there. His target was likely to be the rousing group near the back wall.  
  
If the noise was any indication, four of them were currently involved in a game of sabacce, with a much larger group either watching them play, or sitting back exchanging stories and downing what looked like Bacta mixed with sludge.  
  
Mouse made his way through the tables to the bar.  
  
"What'll it be stranger?" The old man asked, while wiping down a mug.  
  
"Corellian Ale, in a clean glass." He leaned his left side into the bar as the old man went about the process of getting his drink.  
  
Noticing his interest in the gang near the back, the bar tender spoke. "I'd suggest staying away from that lot sir." He stopped the tapped and handed the drink to Mouse. "Dangerous beings they are."  
  
'Not more so than me' Wraith thought. Mouse downed half the drink in one gulp before replying. "My kind of people then." He dropped some credits on the table and approached the card game.  
  
A few faces turned to look at him but so far nobody challenged his presence as he tore a chair away from another table, flipped it around and sat down, taking another swig from his drink as he did so.  
  
It didn't take training with the force to see who was cheating. A few minutes of careful observation proved enough to do that.  
  
As the game continued Mouse watched, feigning curiosity. The guy who he was sitting closets to was obviously the worst player. Already he'd lost a sizable sum, but stubborn pride kept him in the game. As more of his money disappeared into the piles of the other players, Mouse snickered.  
  
The man whirled "What you laughing at punk?" The sickly scent of Alcohol wafted from his mouth. Mouse downed the last of his ale before replaying. Enjoying the look of impatience on the others face.  
  
"You, haven't won a single hand so far."  
  
"If you think you can do better, put your money where your big mouth is."  
  
Mouse set the cup on the table, stood, flipped the chair around and sat. "Your on." The dealer seemed happy to add another lamb to the slaughter, and doled out a new set of cards. Mouse played conservatively for the first few rounds, losing little, and gaining a more but not taking any real chances. So far just feeling out the other players.  
  
"To scared to play with the big boys." The man next to him scoffed."  
  
Mouse replied by betting most of his money on the next hand. Seeing the so far conservative Mouse plunk down that many credits shut his companion up.  
  
"Huh, you ain't fooling me." He said and raised the ante which Mouse raised, without bating an eye. The other merely stared at him for a long moment.  
  
He blinked and mouse smiled  
  
As he folded Mouse turned his attention the dealer, "Well?"  
  
He tossed in some more chips, and grinned confidently at the shorter man. Mouse followed. "I call." He said and laid out his cards.  
  
The other man's grinned widened and he laid out his superior suit and reached for the money.  
  
Mouse waited a heartbeat, before grabbing the guys arm and flipping it up while giving it a good shake. Sure enough a high level card became visible. "Interesting way to play." He commented dryly.  
  
The other players became far more vocal in their displeasure as Mouse released the man, and took back the money he'd lost on that last bet. He pocketed his creds just as the first of many blows landed on the dealer.  
  
"Heh, good eyes shorty." Mouse was so fast the other man never saw it coming. His fist impacted the others jaw and sent him crashing to the floor.  
  
Mouse was already on his feet and standing over the fallen man by the time his pals managed to get to their feet. "The name's Mouse, don't ever call me shorty!" Cold Gray eyes stared at the other man as some of his friends helped him to his feet, while others began to surround the short mercenary.  
  
"That's enough!" All eyes turned to find a slightly graying older man, staring at them with exasperation from his chair. "Sit your fool Asses down and leave him alone."  
  
The group hesitated, but complied, returning to their drinks and chairs.  
  
Mouse spared one last withering stare at the other man before walking towards the door.  
  
"Hold on.Mouse did you say?"  
  
Mouse stopped and turned and found the older man studying him intently, one hand resting on the hip of his brown pants, the other hovered near his blaster. The splotches of color that remained indicated his hair had once been black. On the collar of muted red shirt was a small pin. An indication of his rank in the warlord's forces, Mouse surmised.  
  
"Yeah that's right." He made a point of giving the other a once over. "What do you want?"  
  
The other man favored him with a sardonic smile. "More like what you want?"  
  
"Work." He replied "I heard there was an opportunity for some long term and profitable employment."  
  
The other man shifted his feet slightly; Mouse caught another man settling into a good covering position at the table, behind him. "Maybe there is." He admitted. "Names Gar, if your interested in some employment, meet me outside the south edge of town before sunrise." He smiled; it wasn't a pleasant one "Will see if you have the skills we require."  
  
Mouse stared at the man and gave a slight nod. "What's the pay?"  
  
Gar smirked "The possibility of future employment."  
  
He frowned and started to turn away "I don't work for free."  
  
"1000 credits." Mouse turned back. "And at least another 1000 if you work out, plus employment. Gar added.  
  
"It's a little low." Mouse began. "But fine."  
  
The other man acknowledges this and then headed back to the now more subdued group  
  
-----  
  
Mouse gazed through a pair of binocs at cave entrance. If Gar was right the last of this planet's resistance fighters was holed up in there. After meeting up with Gar and his troops, Mouse had learned that the warlord had halted her advance mostly due to resistance cells like this one. Once they were eliminated or at least contained she'd continue on.  
  
Gar looked around at the bleak valley, whose only plant life was some sickly looking scrubs grass. Why anyone would fight for this rock was beyond him, but he supposed home was home.  
  
Shaking his head at the stupidity of these rebels, Gar dropped down behind the rock he'd been on and strode toward the Gar and his people, who were currently going over a map of the area and the cave network.  
  
Once he'd made it back to his ship, he'd taken the time to look this mercenary up. Gar had been a security volunteer with Corcsec but had fled amidst scandals and an investigation into bribes he'd allegedly taken from some unsavory sources. Since then he'd wandered the galaxy, dodging the law and making a name for himself as capable gun arm for hire. Thus it was no surprise that Mouse found him here.  
  
Gar, noticing his approached looked up. "Well?"  
  
Mouse crouched down next to the map. "Two guards are patrolling here." He pointed to an area just in front of the cave entrance. "And that's it."  
  
Gar looked at him skeptically "That's it?"  
  
"Yup, guess their recruitment division isn't doing so well." A few chuckles followed that statement.  
  
"Easy credits then." The blowhard from last night said. "We charge in and mop'em up fast."  
  
Mouse stared at the other person. "If you got straight in, there's over 50 meter's of open ground. They may no be pros but they'll spot you long before your close enough to shoot. One call and "Easy credits" turns into a hard fight."  
  
The other waved'em off "Psh, they're farmers, we can take'em no problem."  
  
"Possible, but I'm not taking any foolish chances." Gar said, immediately shutting the other up. "Anyone think they can get close enough without being spotted."  
  
"I'll go." Mouse said. "Watch for my signal once I clear the way."  
  
Gar studied him for a bit, then shrugged. "Fine." He said before addressing the others. "The rest of you get in to position." The group dispersed as Mouse began the long, quiet trek.  
  
----  
  
They sky was beginning to gray with the approached of the sun by the time he was in position. It'd taken some work to get this close without being spotted, by surprise and trickery were his specialty and they served him well as always.  
  
Lifting himself from a prone to a crouched position. Mouse slipped a small blade from it's place hidden in his belt. Then settled down to wait.  
  
Sure enough a patrolling guard happened by his position next to the rock wall. The guard never noticed a shadow detached itself from said wall, never the face of the man, who covered his mouth with one hand, while jamming a blade into his spinal column.  
  
Mouse, waited as the blue-eyed man-child spasm in his arms, then went limp. Once sure he was dead, Mouse dumped the body by some rocks, before flattening himself against the rock wall again.  
  
It took some patience, but eventually, the other guard happened along as well. This one he noted was female.  
  
"Shawn? Shawn this isn't a time to be horsing around. " she called as she passed right by him. Again the shadow moved, and again the prey was caught unaware. She found her screamed stifled by a hand as she was seized from behind and dragged back.  
  
Mouse pulled her back into the shadows. He noted the faint smell of lilacs about her as he pulled the blade swiftly across her neck. Her eyes went wide, and she futile tried to gurgle a response. Even going so far as to bite his hand. However, pain was an old friend and his gripe remained as firm as ever. He held her like that as her life ebbed from her, then dumped her like so much waste with her partner.  
  
He wiped the blade on her clothes and sheathed it, before giving the signal to the rest of the team, who made their way swiftly across the ground.  
  
----  
  
For the first few minutes, the assault went quietly and smoothly. Rebels, were killed in their sleep, never knowing their murders faces. Others were eliminated before they could raise an alarm. As such some members of the team got cocky. And if there was anything Muse had learned, it was that when you got cocky, you made mistakes.  
  
Thus it came as little surprise when, Jorge tossed a detonator at three guards who were blocking an intersecting. Killing all of them in one moment. But also alerting the rest of the base to their presence.  
  
What stared as a quiet infiltration and elimination, quickly turned into a shoot out. The rebels were out gunned but they new the network, and they had numbers.  
  
The strike team started taking losses, thankfully Jorge was one of them, which Mouse believed raised their chances for survival greatly. At the moment they were pinned in a rock corridor by and blaster mount, manned by a single person. Next to them was rock that provided cover, for another person, who intermittently lobbed grenades on his position.  
  
So far neither side had made much headway. But the longer this went on the worse it would get for Gar's team.  
  
Mouse, who was ducked down behind a corner, and decided that a small application of the force was in order. Stretching out felt the minds of the other two. He could almost feel the second person prime the detonator, knew they were just starting to stand. Mouse leaned around the corner aimed and fired, ducking back just ahead of a wicked series of blaster bolts.  
  
His own shot nailed, the grenadier right between the eyes. He didn't see it, but could feel, as the person's limbs went slack. New the moment their body began to fall. Heard the metallic ring, as the detonator hit the ground and rolled under the emplaced gun. And saw the shock wave of the blast as it passed over the position of gar and his men.  
  
Gar, who'd seen he make the shot, tossed him a quick nod, before moving his men deeper into the cave.  
  
----  
  
30 minutes after they'd gone in, it was over. The survivors had been rounded up and at Mouse's suggestion, stunned then searched. Gar had made a circuit of the place with Another and Mouse to ensure no one was left. Once finished they met up the rest of their party outside, who were already loading the unconscious prisoners into a waiting hover truck.  
  
"Nice job back there." Gar commented as he handed over the Cred chits. "Never saw anyone shot like that."  
  
Mouse acknowledged the praise with a nod as he counted his money.  
  
Once satisfied that he had the right amount he pocketed it, "So, what about further employment?"  
  
Gar pursed his lips. "Well, You ain't no republic spy nor are you A Jedi. The later don't use blaster and neither of 'em would take part in that little raid at least not like you did."  
  
Mouse waited for him to finish  
  
"I could use a man like on the squad. Say 2000 a mission and all the spare battery packs we have."  
  
Mouse folded his arms across his chest. "4000, I'd say my talents rate that."  
  
Gar gave him an amused stare. "Confident aren't we. 3000 and we stop bargaining."  
  
Mulled it over and nodded "Done." He grabbed the others hand and shook. "Glad to have you aboard Mouse." The two then clambered aboard the waiting transports.  
  
As the vehicles tore through the morning, Lord Wraith smiled in satisfaction.  
  
Author Notes: A little darker than usual, but a story that could be interesting to tell. Obviously it's set between the destruction of the original sith and the rise of palpatine. 


End file.
